Afternoon Deal Report: Coens to Adapt Chabon's "Yiddish Policemen"

Peter Smith — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 18:10:00 GMT

Joel and Ethan Coen have two or three original projects in the pipeline (Burn After Reading, A Serious Man and Hail Caesar), but apparently the mainstream success of No Country for Old Men (okay, the Coens have never really lacked mainstream recognition, but with its literary pedigree, No Country is certainly the most prestige-y thing they've ever done) has spurred them towards more adaptations. Scott Rudin has just hired them to adapt Michael Chabon's The Yiddish Policemen's Union. (Rudin also has an adaptation of Chabon's Adventures of Kavalier and Clay in the works, written by Chabon himself.) As someone who liked No Country well-enough but missed the Coens' usual irreverance in the midst of all that apocalyptic atmosphere, I'm sort of sad to see them moving towards adaptations. Their original voice is one of the best things they have. Thoughts, readers?

Marisa Tomei will star with Mickey Rourke in Darren Aronofsky's next movie, The Wrestler, about an '80s pro-wrestler. Sadly, this is not the Macho Man Randy Savage biopic we've all been waiting for.

After a protracted scuffle with Peter Jackson over the division of the spoils of his Lord of the Rings adaptations, New Line has now evoked the legal wrath of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate. In other lawsuit news, the co-writer of The Passion of the Christ is suing Mel Gibson for misleading him about the film's budget. Drive out those moneychangers, Mel.

Mike D'Angelo at Sundance: Part 9

Peter Smith — Fri, 25 Jan 2008 19:05:00 GMT

Mike D'Angelo reports from the Sundance Film Festival:

As the festival winds down, some quick notes on movies I didn't have time to address earlier. (I'm gonna include the walk-outs here, despite the wrath of one reader who believes that saying anything at all about a movie you didn't see from start to finish constitutes dereliction of duty. Obviously, you should take such judgments with a grain or two of salt — and maybe an entire shakerful in the case of Ballast, which I'll very likely see again, and in full, at some point. But at the same time, you can get a mighty strong sense of a film in thirty-five to forty minutes.)

Traces of the Trade: A Story From the Deep North (Documentary Competition): Painfully earnest young woman with unbearably whiny voice — she narrates, alas — discovers that her esteemed ancestors were slave traders, corrals nine relatives for self-indulgent journey to sore spots from the family's past. For hardcore aficionados of liberal white guilt only. (W/O)

Time Crimes (Park City at Midnight): I'm a sucker for time-travel stories, but even I had trouble warming to this Spanish gloss on 2004 Sundance prizewinner Primer, in which a middle-aged schlub travels ninety minutes into the past and finds himself engaged in unwitting battle with other versions of himself who've developed wildly divergent agendas. Ineptly directed, for the most part, and the concluding twist is singularly unsatisfying. Come back, Shane (Carruth).

The Wave (World Cinema Dramatic Competition): German filmmaker Dennis Gansel turns the true story of a high-school history experiment gone awry into a glossy, pulse-pounding thriller, employing methods almost as fascistic as those of The Wave itself. Intentional irony? One can't help but be riveted by the spectacle of ordinary teenagers willingly submitting to autocratic rule — their überhip teacher is attempting to demonstrate that the Nazis weren't anomalous monsters — but earmarking one kid as emotionally unstable from the get-go means that we're just twiddling our thumbs as we await the inevitable moment when he finally snaps.

What Just Happened? (Premieres): Hollywood made yet another mildly lacerating self-portrait, that's what. Loosely based on the memoirs of producer Art Linson (Fight Club, Into the Wild, several Mamet films), it boasts the most relaxed De Niro performance in ages and a smattering of truly hilarious jokes, most of them involving out-of-control entitlement. Too bad Bruce Willis, sporting a Grizzly Adams beard that he refuses to shave prior to the start of filming on a new picture, isn't nearly as funny as Alec Baldwin must have been in real life. (Read Linson's equally diverting book for the lowdown; it happened on 1997's The Edge.)

The Mysteries of Pittsburgh (Dramatic Competition): Michael Chabon's complicated first novel has been reduced (by Dodgeball's Rawson Marshall Thurber) to a simple bisexual love triangle, with two major characters — Arthur and Cleveland — melded into one, and another, the improbably named Phlox, distorted almost beyond recognition. And yet the movie still almost kinda works, mostly because Peter Sarsgaard commits himself so fully to his ludicrous bad-boy manipulator that we, like the dazed young protagonist, are completely taken in.

Downloading Nancy (Dramatic Competition): I'd had about enough of this repugnant exercise in nihilism at the point when Maria Bello, playing a masochistic housewife who's hired a stranger she found on the Internet (Jason Patric) to torture and kill her, walks barefoot into a mouse trap, over and over and over, shrieking with laughter each time it snaps on her toes. By all accounts from those who stuck it out, it gets much, much worse thereafter. At least the "revelation" that she was sexually abused as a child isn't saved for the final reel. (W/O)

The Screengrab : michael chabon

Afternoon Deal Report: Coens to Adapt Chabon's "Yiddish Policemen"

Mike D'Angelo at Sundance: Part 9